Just Make Believe
by werechick
Summary: (FEMSLASH: Padma/Lavender, Lavender/Parvati) My sister must be crazy; she takes what she has with her for granted so easily, as if it didn't matter. Maybe they're both crazy. Love is insanity’s dearest possession, I think.


Lavender loves my sister, she really does. I can see it in everything she does. My sister must be crazy; she takes what she has with her for granted so easily, as if it didn't matter. Maybe they're both crazy. Love is insanity's dearest possession, I think.

They fight about everything, every tiny little thing that will never matter. It's so amazing to me, how their relationship is able to change so often, morphing and altering to every passing day, each time moving three steps forward and two back.

They're so angry now, but I know the fight won't last. None of them have, they're far too petty to destroy the incredible bond between them.

Right now, Parvati is in their tower bedroom, scribbling her angry lies about her lover into a notebook stained with tears and worn from overuse and emotion. The wireless is blaring something obscene, and she nods her head to the lyrics. The song plays on, while she rips it up, starting to cry so hard her whole body shakes and she can't seem to catch her breath. She's liable not to speak for days.

Lavender is fighting the urge to cry, while pledging never to love her again, and then corrects herself, swearing she never loved her to begin with. But that's a lie, and we both know it. She loves her now more than ever. Neither of them notice what they have until it's gone.

In a couple days, one of them will crack, and they'll give in soon enough. My sister will come to her senses and realize her mistake. She'll take Lavender back. She'll crawl back into Lavender's bed and everything will go back to the way it was and always will be, forever.

For now, Lavender is in _my_ arms. It's _my_ lips she's kissing. Her fingers run through my hair as we head towards my tower bedroom, hoping the others will stay in Hogsmeade as promised.

She tells me she loves me, tells me she always will, that she chose the wrong sister, and all the rest of her lies. I know better. She loves Parvati, as much as it pains her to admit it.

I love Lavender. A thousand times what my sister feels. Parvati loves being the bad girl, doing, saying, feeling everything our parents forbid her to. She loves rebelling, being different, being someone, and most of all, being Lavender's someone. The only thing she doesn't love is Lavender herself, the beautiful girl turning into woman before both of our very eyes.

Lavender loves Parvati so much it doesn't matter. It's the sort of mad, passionate love that makes her heart beat a million times in each perfect instant, so fast and overpowering she almost feels her heart will explode and her head with it. She knows it would be worth it, worth every minute of it if her love can be returned, even just a little bit.

I kiss her, deeply, passionately. All I am, my heart and soul, each are surrendered to her. Every word of love I never said is held on the tip of my tongue. She closes her eyes and kisses back.

My lips move lower, my tongue faster. Soon it will be over, and she will tense, eyes tight shut, screaming a name I refuse to hear.

We'll crawl under the sheets together, and she'll let me wrap my arms around her, lightly brushing the tiny hairs on her stomach and back. She'll close her eyes, and pretend the navy blue blankets that surround her are different ones, of scarlet cloth, and the warm arms around her are someone else's.

I'll join her in this pretend world, pretending I don't hear her whisper Parvati's name while she's sleeping, pretending I don't smell the traces of Parvati's perfume left on her cheek. I'll pretend Lavender is someone else, someone who returns what I feel for her, someone who cares, and someone who gives a damn.

In the end, it's just my imagination. Dreams end, dreamers wake and pretenders join the real world. She'll run back to my sister, or perhaps my sister will run back to her. It doesn't matter. All that matters is, they'll be back together, and I'll be alone.

Lavender will forget all about me. She always does when she's with Parvati. Lavender lives for the moment, and loves for forever, and if she loves at all, she loves completely.

I don't want to see that. I don't want to see the way they sit so close together at meals, interlaced fingers hidden by the scarlet tablecloth. I don't want to see the way Lavender looks at Parvati, making love radiate from her eyes in the way only she can.

So I'll pretend it won't happen, she'll never leave. I'll pretend she was always here, always right next to me, like she was meant to be. No, she won't leave me. She loves me," I'll repeat the lie in my head a hundred thousand times, until it becomes so natural that it must be true.

I know it's not that way, deep down. But I don't like knowing. I like pretending so much better, living in a world where I make the decisions.

I touch her hair, lightly running my fingers through the fine braids. I'll pretend now is all that is, no past and no future, only now.

I'll fall asleep with her in my arms, hoping and praying the sun will explode, or the sky will fall in on itself; anything to keep from waking up, arms empty and a sunken heart to match.

I'll hold her, love her and hope, do all I can to make the impossible my own. For now, it will have to be enough. I can't be her everything. But right now, I'm the only thing holding her together.


End file.
